


Rational Thinking Only

by Oreneta



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Comedy, Crack Fic, Gen, definitely not medically accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25559734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreneta/pseuds/Oreneta
Summary: Jonathan Reid is not a vampire. That's what he keeps telling to himself but others are not so convinced.Why can't they understand it can all be understood through science and logic?(Basically a short crack fic where Jonathan is in denial about being a vampire)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 38





	Rational Thinking Only

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking on this fic!  
> For those of you who know me from Death Pending yes, new chapter is coming. I just needed a break and to write something more lighthearted for a chance.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Jonathan Emmett Reid was not a vampire. Yes, he had been thought dead and had to crawl out of a burial site, but living people being mistaken for dead was not impossible. He was a doctor, he'd seen it happen. Well actually read it once in a medical book. But it was still within the realm of possibility.

His apparent "taste for blood"? Simply a sign of anemia. He had lost a great amount of blood after all. And his ability to smell blood at a distance was just a newly gained skill after a traumatic brain injury. 

He had never read that in any books, but the human body was still a mystery after all.

He had been assaulted in the streets and left for dead, that was it. Vampires weren't real after all.

The first two nights after the incident were hectic, to put it lightly. The rush of adrenaline had helped him defend himself from the violent militia chasing after him, and the rage of the sickly, alcoholic William Bishop. It had granted him almost superhuman strength, as adrenaline was known to do.

But what didn't help was his sudden allergy to sunlight. Whenever the softest light of sunrise hit him, his skin would burst into flames. It was a severe allergy.

"That is proof that you are a vampire." Insisted doctor Edgar Swansea, who despite being a man of science believed in such tales. Jonathan wasn't convinced, but he accepted the night shift position at the Pembroke Hospital anyway.

After settling in to his new personal quarters, he tried to have a proper meal. He had been thirsty, but not hungry, but he knew he still needed to fill his stomach. He was a human like any other, after all.

It turned out his body didn't take it too well. He had probably caught a digestive tract infection. Perhaps the nurses at the Pembroke were all just terrible at cooking. Either way, it was nothing that wouldn't last more than a few days. 

Days in which doctor Swansea attempted to "reason" with him on being a vampire. As if that was a logical option. "Rational thinking only", is what he countered with. Just like when he shot himself hoping it was all a dream. It hadn't been a dream, but he had obviously aimed the gun poorly, and just gave himself a minor injury. One that drenched the bed in blood and definitely worsened his anemia. It also rendered his favourite shirt useless, unfortunately.

"What about the effect that crosses have over you?" Swansea insisted.

It meant nothing. He was an atheist, of course he felt naturally repelled to religious symbols. Swansea wasn't happy with that response, and aimed a cross at him again, which gave him a massive headache.

The following day Swansea had called for reinforcements on his vampire discourse. The man he had asked for help was Geoffrey McCullum, a self proclaimed vampire hunter with an unsociable attitude and poor taste in clothes.

"No doubt, Swansea." He said. "That's a leech."

"It's not me you have to convince."

McCullum approached Jonathan with a threatening glare. 

"What kind of games are you playing?"

Jonathan wasn't the least bothered.

"I simply have a series of unlikely medical conditions. Is it that hard to believe?"

McCullum unsheathed his sword.

"Then why are you so pale?"

"I am an academic. This country has an almost permanent gloomy weather. Do you really expect me to have a tan?"

The hunter swung his sword. Jonathan dodged it without a second thought, and ended up crashing against the worktable on the other end of the room.

"Don't go ruining my office!" Swansea protested. McCullum ignored him completely. 

"And how do you explain that?"

Jonathan looked around, still a bit confused.

"It wasn't that big of a leap."

The hunter charged again, and this time Jonathan blocked the hit with his arm. The sword had left him with a deep cut that immediately started bleeding on the carpet.

"Stop that!" Swansea complained, but didn't dare approach the other men.

"What about that?" McCullum grinned darkly. "Your injury has closed already."

"I wasn't hurt in the first place." Said Jonathan nonchalantly. 

McCullum groaned.

"You'd expect a doctor to be more sharp minded." He slashed again, and again, until Jonathan's arm fell off.

The doctor's face expression remained the same.

"It's just a flesh wound."

McCullum facepalmed. Swansea facepalmed. The birds nesting outside the window probably facepalmed as well.

Jonathan picked the arm up and placed it again in its correct place.

"I've had worse." He insisted.

"My carpet will have to be replaced after this…" Swansea sighed.

"You leave me no choice." McCullum threw his sword away and cracked his knuckles. "No leech can resist that."

Jonathan jumped again and crashed against Swansea's desk. His favourite skull clattered away as the man leaped in shock. Soon after McCullum was on top of Jonathan and pinning him against the upside down table.

"Quick! Bring me a blood sample."

Swansea caught on really fast, and not only brought a full bottle, but also a funnel that was promptly shoved into Jonathan's mouth.

Jonathan struggled at first, but once the fluid reached his tongue he had to admit it tasted quite good.

When the bottle was empty, McCullum let him go and Jonathan sat down calmly.

"You know," he said, deep in thought "I think I might have developed the strangest fetish."


End file.
